"Watt-Evans,.Lawrence.-.Ethshar.5.-.Taking.Flight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragon Stories)

He just hadnt intended it to be quite so soon.
He had learned years ago, in the face of his sisters mockery, to keep his mouth shut about Zindrщs predictions; still, he had secretly harbored hopes of someday making them all come true.
Now he was finally convinced it would never happen. The World was just not an exciting place. There were no wonders to be seen.
He would just go home and be a farmer.
Something moved in the corner of his eye; he looked up, startled. The movement had been off to the left; he turned and looked, trying to spot it again.
At first, of course, he looked at the highway, and then at the fields to the far side, and then along the row of low hills along the near side. Only when the sparkle of something bright catching the morning sunlight drew his gaze upward did he spot it.
It was pale and gleaming and more or less cross-shaped, flying along above the highway, and initially he took it for a huge and unfamiliar bird. It swooped closer as he watched, gleaming in the dawn as he had never seen a bird gleam. He stared, trying to make it out, and realized that it was no bird.
It was aperson, a person with wings, and it was coming toward him.
He hesitated, unsure whether to run or stand his ground. A person flying meant magic, and magic, much as he wanted to see it, could be dangerous.
The World might not be quite so dull as he had feared, but, he told himself, it might be more dangerous than he had thought.
Then the flying figure drew close enough for him to see the curve of breast and hip, the long sweeping flow of golden hair, and he knew it was a woman, a young woman, and like any lad of sixteen he wanted to see more of her. He stood his ground.
The figure drew closer and closer, her wings spread wide to catch the gentle morning breeze; they flapped occasionally, but she was gliding more than actually flying. Sunlight gleamed brilliantly from the wings, sparkling and iridescent; rainbows seemed to flicker across their silvery-white surfaces. She was wearing a white tunic with colored trim, though he could not yet make out the details; below the tunic were fawn-colored breeches, rather than the skirt a woman should be wearingKelder supposed a skirt would be impractical in flight. Her dangling feet were bare.
He held his breath, expecting her to veer away or vanish at any moment, but she came closer and closer. He could see her face now, the high cheekbones and turned-up nose, the large eyes and mouth. She wasvery young, not so much a woman as a girl, his own age or even a year or two younger. The trim on her tunic was green and blue embroidery, depicting leaves and flowers.
He stared, utterly astonished, as with a final swoop she settled gently to the earth not ten feet away from him.
She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her face was heart-shaped and perfect, her eyes a deep, pure blue, her hair a flowing stream of gold. Kelder had heard of blondes, and had even seen pictures, but he had never seen one in person before.
The wings that grew from her upper back were sleek and white, with every curve gleaming polychrome; the back of her tunic was slit on either side and hemmed to allow them through. In front her breasts filled the tunic out nicely.
As she landed her wings, which had spread at least five yards from tip to tip, folded about her sides, like a cape. The embroidery at her neckline and on her cuffs, he noticed, showed morning glory vines in full bloom. A bloodstone as big as the top joint of his thumb glowed at the base of her throat, catching the morning sun.
She was four or five inches shorter that he was, though he was scarcely a gianta shade below average height, in fact. She looked up at him with those deep blue eyes.
Hello, she said, speaking the single Ethsharitic word in a soft and velvety voice.
Hello, Kelder replied, when he had caught his breath. He was suddenly very, very glad that Lurallas grandmother had known Ethsharitic.
Whowas this miraculous creature? And why was she speaking tohim? Had Zindrщ told the truth after all? Was this one of the prophesied wonders?
Was she perhaps even more?
Im Irith the Flyer, she said. Who are you?
Im ... Im... He gulped and tried again. Im Kelder of Shulara.
She studied him thoughtfully for a moment, and then pointed to the south. Shularasthat way, isnt it? she asked, cocking her head prettily to one side.
Kelder nodded, staring down at her. She was unbelievably beautiful.
Then what are you doinghere? she asked, blinking up at him.
I ... I wanted to see the Great Highway, Kelder replied, horribly aware that his answer sounded stupid.
She turned to look down at the road. Well, there it is, she said. Its not really much to look at, around here. She turned back and smiled at him. Of course, this is one of the dull parts, she said. The best parts are at the ends.
That was a fascinating bit of information, and Kelder was very pleased to have it. You have traveled on the Highway? he asked. The Ethsharitic words came to his tongue with difficulty; he feared that if the conversation went on he would soon be lost.
Irith grinned at him. Oh, Ive been back and forth along it ahundred times! she said. What about you?
I came here last night, he admitted. From Shulara.
Oh. She glanced southward. They dont speak Ethsharitic there, do they?
No, Kelder admitted.
I dont think I remember how to speak Shularan, she said, apologetically. Would you rather speak Traders Tongue?
Ah ... it might be easier, yes, Kelder agreed, relieved. Traders Tongue shared rather more vocabulary with Shularan than did Ethsharitic, and the grammar came more easily. Besides, Tikri Tikris son had been a more knowledgeable and congenial teacher than Luralla the Inquisitive.
Irith nodded. All right, she said, in Traders Tongue. You came here cross-country all by yourself?
Kelder needed a minute to switch languages; then he replied, Well, therearent any roads in Shulara, not really. Traders Tongue was much easier, once he had made the adjustment.
Oh, I know, she said. I was there once, a long time ago. Its pretty, but not very exciting. She shrugged, then looked back up into his eyes. Is that why you left? she asked. To find somewhere more exciting?
Something like that, he agreed, marvelling at how she seemed to be equally fluent in both tongues. I wanted to seek my fortune, you know, like in the stories. My father wants me to just stay home and be a farmer like he did, and he ... well, I didnt want to. Or at least, not yet. He made no mention of the prophecy, for fear she, like his sisters, would think it stupid and laugh at him.
She nodded. Grown-ups can be soboring, cant they? She giggled.
The sound, Kelder thought, was almost like birdsong.
Bright and beautiful, with a laugh like birdsong, with a magic all her ownthiswas the girl he was to marry! It had to be, beyond a doubt. He would bring her to his home in pride and delight, and spend his life with her in joy.
That was what the seer had said. Kelder swallowed.
Irith smiled at him, then abruptly sat down, cross-legged, on the grass. The movement exposed her ankles, and Kelder noticed something on one of them, several narrow bands encircling her leg.
Then she stretched her arms over her head and yawned, and Kelder stared at the display of curves elsewhere and forgot about her ankles. Wings aside, blonde hair aside, Irith was stillfar more interesting than Inza of the Blue Eyes.
I got up early this morning, she said casually, when the yawn was done. I wanted to do a little early flying, before anybody else was up.
Kelder settled to the ground himself, far more slowly and carefully, a few feet away from her. He stared at her, at the great shining wings, and wondered where she had come from. If he was going to marry her, he wanted to know something about her background. Was there a whole nation of winged people somewhere?
Thatwould be a wonder worth seeing!
Do you live around here? he asked.